Chapitre 18: Two Guests
Sorry for the delay. was busy with stuff IRL.
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Three weeks had passed.
It was a time that felt short if considered brief, and long if thought extended, rapidly changing the once awkward silence that had settled between us.
We spent a week without words, in awkward silence.
Another week went by with the exchange of stiff greetings.
During the final week, we faced each other and had serious conversations.
I apologized for the terrible incident that had occurred, thanked her, and we talked about my arm.
As we continued talking, the young lady's tears became more frequent, but the awkwardness between us began to subside.
She cried looking at the arm.
She cried seeing a forced smile.
She even cried looking at the night stars.
As if she had become a man in the throes of a midlife crisis with heightened sensitivity, the young lady began to regain her smile as the time spent talking and facing each other increased.
That day, the young lady said she would cut back on swearing and being picky with side dishes. And that she was truly sorry.
We got to know each other better and made sincere apologies.
The young lady confronted my arm once more, saying that now was the only chance; her hands shaking, she slowly unraveled the bandage and looked at my arm.
I can't forget the expression on her face, still drenched in shock.
"Did I…did I do this?"
"I…"
After a moment, the young lady, who had kept her mouth tightly shut, nodded her head and covered her face with her hands and wept.
The young lady had gradually returned.
Not to the dejected person she had been, but as Olivia, the bold and food-loving villainess.
While she hadn't turned bad like in the past.
"Ricardo, what do you want to eat?"
She had become a magnanimous villainess who gave the choice to pick the menu.
Although she still welled up with tears at the sight of my face, and if I scratched an itchy arm, she would murmur in startled eyes, 'Does it hurt?' But the lady of three weeks ago and now seemed much changed.
She wasn't the lady who was deflated but the bold lady.
I liked that better.
I preferred the lady who was a bit shameless, speaking her mind and asking for what she wanted, rather than hiding guiltily in her room.
Because I had been hiding the scar on my hand for fear of the suffocating mood, perhaps something like this isn't so bad.
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In the serene room of the young lady.
Sitting on the bed, she furrowed her eyebrows and concentrated on one spot.
Like a surgeon in an operating room, she held a cotton swab in one hand and an ointment in another, her intense gaze fixed as she focused.
I was reminded of what the adults used to say.
If she had studied that much, she would have gone to Seoul National University, they said. If the young lady had focused on her studies as she was now, she would have easily topped her class.
At the School of Magic, she was first in practical exams, last in written.
With a cotton swab full of ointment, the young lady hiccupped.
Biting her lip and concentrating, the young lady's hand trembled as she spoke to me.
"If it hurts, tell me."
"Ah…"
"Yikes!"
Before even making contact, when I said it hurt, the young lady jerked her shoulders. I laughed at her reaction.
"You haven't even touched yet."
"That…really?"
"Sigh."
The young lady took a deep breath and focused on her bandaged right hand.
With an expression as if she would cry if she touched the wound, she was focusing on the injury. It was almost maddening to tease her.
I held the corners of my twitching mouth and looked at the sparkling right hand.
Only white ointment was visible, not the black scars. The concern was excessive, and I laughed.
"Lady."
"Be quiet. I'm concentrating."
"If you apply so much, it might get into the steak tonight for dinner."
She flinched. At the mention of food, the young lady stopped her hand, nodded awkwardly, and spun hopeful thoughts.
"The meat is injured too, so if you apply the ointment, it might grow."
"Please, make sense."
"No?"
"Yes."
The young lady made a dejected face and muttered softly, 'Then I'll just eat it a little less tasty.'
The young lady was generously applying ointment on my arm.
Applying too much on one spot.
Applying even where there was nothing wrong.
To my eyes, there was no more space to apply, but to her eyes, it still seemed insufficient.
Like a bubble bath, the sticky ointment began to pile as she was reaching for a yet unopened ointment from the first aid kit.
The young lady murmured.
"It shouldn't hurt."
"It doesn't hurt."
"Still…"
Applying the ointment even in spots that weren't injured, she said.
"It shouldn't hurt."
She didn't pay attention to my words.
Touching the wound carelessly, she watched my reaction intensely, and when I flinched because it tickled, she looked crestfallen. 'It shouldn't hurt, right?' she would mumble to herself.
Applying ointment to a rotting skin from dark magic was meaningless, but because I liked the touch of the young lady's hands full of care, I offered my arm to her.
I remember that time when I showed her the wounds properly, the next day. She spoke to me seriously, and I thought my heart would burst from the tremors.
"Take it off."
"What?"
In that instant, a profane thought crossed my mind, causing an internal struggle, but the young lady, with her eyes tightly closed, said to me.
"I'm going to look at the arm. Take off your clothes."
"Are you talking about the arm?"
I awkwardly hid my arm behind my back, but the lady's stubbornness, having realized everything, couldn't be bent. If I didn't show her, she might lie in bed all day and be gloomy, saying, 'I am a bad girl…' so how could I refuse?
When I rolled up my sleeves, the young lady, wiping the tears that had welled up in her eyes, bravely said.
"I will apply the medication."
She spoke so decisively.
Reluctantly, I showed my arm to her, and right there, she began to apply the ointment while crying.
"Huh…Huh…"
"Why are you crying again?"
"It's disgusting…and it looks so painful…"
From then on, showing my hand to the young lady became a daily routine.
When she brought chocolate, and took out a gold coin from her chest pocket, she told me to buy ointment, of course, the warmly heated coin is well stored in my drawer.
I keep the gold coin with a deep story from being given to someone else. Certainly not for any perverse reason.
"That's enough."
The young lady wrapped up with a satisfied smile.
"Hee…!"
With a proud posture, she showed the hand that had been wrapped with the bandage. I looked at the masterpiece infused with the young lady's soul with an indifferent smile.
"What is this?"
"Treatment."
"As a treatment, isn't it wrapped too thick? If the maid sees it, she would think I broke my arm."
The clumsily wrapped bandage looked as thick as a cast. It looked like I could nail something with my arm because of how much the young lady had layered it.
"Hihi…"
She wore an expression of pride that it was hard to complain.
The young lady picked up a pen and began to draw on the bandage.
"What are you doing?"
"Magic spell."
"For a magic spell, the drawing looks rather hopeless."
"Be quiet. I'm focusing."
The young lady swiftly drew on the bandage.
An orc and a goblin.
She left a gracious message, [Get well soon], but I couldn't quite get used to this monster family portrait.
I looked at the orc with a fierce expression and said.
"Is this, by any chance, me?"
The young lady nodded vehemently.
"Yes."
"…"
I wanted to flick her on the forehead.
I then pointed to the goblin with an unnervingly ample bosom. It reminded me of the goblin's provocative design containing the young lady's emergency fund.
When I pointed with my finger, the corners of the young lady's mouth rose.
"Is this supposed to be you?"
She nodded just the same. She looked at me with bright, expectant eyes, as though awaiting an appraisal of the masterpiece she had invested her artistic soul into.
"How was it?"
I turned my head toward the window.
"Why don't you answer?"
"…"
"Are you too astonished because it's so well drawn?"
Giving false hope to someone with a desperate lack of talent should not be done. What if she mistakes this opportunity as a sign she has artistic talent and decides to become a painter? My pride wouldn't allow me to offer such light praise for talents that were, in actuality, despairing.
The young lady stared at me intently.
Pouting her lips, she gave me a threatening glare without uttering a word, and I spoke with slurring diction.
"It's…well drawn."
"Right?"
"Yes, the goblin and…"
'Ah… I made a mistake.'
The young lady frowned.
"That's not a goblin…"
Disappointed, the young lady hung her head low.
I tried to offer her some consolation.
"It's a good thing you don't have high aspirations for art."
The young lady threw the pen.
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The warm sunlight entered my eyes.
Today, the mansion's garden was once again sunny.
The young lady sat in a chair outside after a long time inside.
She came to attend to me as I practiced swordsmanship, saying it would be a problem if I got hurt. She declared herself my medic and graced me with her noble presence.
I swung my sword vigorously in front of the young lady. I thought it best to show her flashy swordsmanship if I was going to show off anyway.
Whoosh, whoosh. The sound of slicing the air resounded through the mansion's garden.
As I showed off my sword skill, leaving afterimages in the air while channeling aura into the blade, the young lady clapped, her eyes wide with amazement.
"Oh…!"
I wiped the sweat from my brow like a protagonist in a romance novel while making an artificial sound of breath.
"Hoo… How was that?"
The young lady looked at me with unimpressed eyes, focusing instead on my right arm rather than my swordsmanship.
I thought she would be pleased when I heard the clapping, but she just looked on with disinterested eyes and a perfunctory clap.
The young lady then said to me.
"Don't you have something like Meteor?"
"No."
"What about a laser that goes whoosh?"
"That's impossible."
"Boring."
The young lady had struck a blow to a man's pride. Bored, she patted her full belly.
"Can't you do something like split a mountain or even the sky?"
"Even a Swordmaster can't do that."
The young lady stared at me intently.
"Can't Ricardo do it?"
"Well… That's…"
She was asking me to demonstrate sword techniques that not even a Swordmaster could perform. I felt a switch being pressed in me, provoked and my pride challenged by the young lady.
The young lady left one more comment, "Ah, boring," then leaned back in her chair lazily, showing a nonchalant demeanor.
"I'm hungry."
The young lady who had touched my pride.
This won't do.
Even if it means fainting, I must hear her say, "Oh…! That's amazing." If it ends like this, I'm sure to be remembered by the young lady only as a butler who uses a kitchen knife well.
I raised my aura.
[Limit Break (L) tests the limits of your aura.]
Seeing my sword glowing red like the sun, the young lady's eyes sparkled.
"Can you see it?"
"Oh…"
The young lady showed an interested reaction. Just as I was about to gather more aura into my sword,
"Oh…"
"Oh…"
I heard familiar voices of a man and a woman.
Two people with bright brown hair.
They were uninvited guests.
I laid down my sword and looked at the two men and women standing at the entrance, watching me quietly.
"Hanna?"
The Histania siblings stood side by side at the entrance of the mansion.
Hanna held a bandaged sword and a bundle of presents as she smiled warmly at me.
"It's me. Butler."
They were guests I hadn't seen for a while.
"I came because I was hungry."
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The dining table was finally serving its purpose after a long time.
Since Yuria's last visit, the table had been gathering dust, but now it was in use again.
From the kitchen, I looked at those sitting at the table.
Olivia had an indifferent expression on her face.
Hanna, who became the youngest aura user in the empire.
And Malik, the patriarch of the restaurant industry no, the firstborn son of the Histania family, all notable figures from the empire, were sitting at the humble dining table, sipping hot tea.
Savoring the fragrance of black tea, Hanna looked towards me with a small smile.
"This time it's not green tea?"
"I thought you might come, Hanna, so I decided to spend a bit."
Hanna smiled at my diplomatic response.
"Really? I was hoping to surprise you."
It seemed to be a joke suited to Hannas taste.
Hanna carefully observed her teacup.
With a subtle smile, she touched the handle of the cup and murmured to herself.
"The green tea was also tasty."
Seizing the moment, I rummaged around and took out a tin of cheap green tea from the cupboard.
The cheap green tea that Olivia and I had tried in vain to finish had not seen the light of day since we started drinking tea made with craftsmanship. I had hoped to get rid of it with this opportunity.
I showed Hanna the tin of green tea made of steel.
"Would you like some?"
Olivia, noticing my hidden intention to get rid of leftovers, commented.
"Ricardo, dealing with leftovers is bad."
"These aren't leftovers. I'm simply offering tea that suits the taste."
"That's still dealing with leftovers."
Olivia was being obtuse.
Hanna awkwardly shook her head, declining. While I regretted missing this chance to get rid of it and suggested she take it home, thanks to Olivia's confession of conscience, I did not succeed.
Frustrated, I told Olivia.
"Then, tomorrow's snack will be green tea and biscuits."
"Dealing with leftovers is bad."
"It's fine. Sometimes the homeowner needs to take care of the leftovers."
"Well"
Olivia looked towards Hanna hopefully.
"You eat it."
And she pushed the green tea towards Hanna.
Hanna declined.
She said the green tea I made was tasty, or something like that.
With a reluctant heart, I put the green tea back in the cupboard.
Dinner preparations were quickly made.
Tonight's menu was Spicy Rice Cakes.
A humble dish to serve to guests, but it was Hannas special request wrapped in bundles of gifts, so I had to make it.
It was what Hanna wanted.
And also the menu for tonight.
Nevertheless, I couldn't help feeling nervous about presenting a new dish in front of a giant in the culinary industry.
Malik had been watching me cook with his arms crossed for some time now.
His attitude reminded me of a certain cooking show from a past life. I was half-expecting him to say "Chef, could you come down here for a moment?" which made it hard for me to concentrate on my cooking.
"Hm You're rather good."
Malik gave a brief review as he watched my adept handling of the ingredients.
I couldn't decide whether to take it as a compliment or to tell this guest to stop critiquing and just sit down.
Curious about the developing dish, Malik asked.
"What are you cooking?"
"Ah, is this your first time, Malik?"
Malik nodded.
The only ones who had tried Spicy Rice Cakes at this estate were Olivia and Hanna.
Come to think of it, Malik had never eaten Spicy Rice Cakes before. He needed an explanation of the dish. Just when I was about to explain, I heard Hannas sharp voice from the chair.
"Just shut up and eat."
"Sure."
Malik couldn't stand up against Hanna.
The last time I saw them, Malik was desperately chasing after Hanna, but it seemed much had changed in their relationship.
I wonder if my advice from last time had helped, as the two seemed to be on better terms now, fitting the image of siblings.
Bickering.
"What are you doing at someone elses house?"
"It's an occupational habit"
"Occupation? Aren't you a knight, brother?"
"That's right! A Royal Knight."
"Then behave like one and sit still, please."
Or not?
It seemed he might be thoroughly committed to his professional spirit as an entrepreneur
Anyway, it's good to see them getting along.
Just that the relationship between Olivia and Malik was a bit worrying.
Since a moment ago, Olivia had been eyeing Malik with her arms crossed. She was clearly displeased with this uninvited guests presence.
Their relationship started on a rocky note.
"Who are you?"
"You?"
"Yeah, you."
"Then who are you?"
"I am the owner of this house."
"Ah so you are the infamous villainess Olivia?"
"Wanna fight?"
Olivia glared at Malik.
And Malik glared back at her.
The atmosphere between the two was quite suffocating.
When their hostile stares crossed, Hanna poked Malik's side forcefully.
"Don't be annoying."
Hanna had become the boss of Malik.
She seemed much changed. The gloominess due to her insecurity about the sword had vanished, replaced by confidence and assertiveness. Her current demeanor seemed quite appealing.
When the Spicy Rice Cakes was ready, I put on oven mitts.
Seeing this, Olivia said.
"Since Ricardo is hurt, Malik, you carry it over."
Malik glared at Olivia, but compelled by another sharp nudge to the ribs from Hanna, he walked over to the kitchen.
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The pot was quickly emptied.
Malik, who had been curiously examining the food, dropped all manners of nobility and greedily cleared his plate, while Hanna, sweating profusely, muttered That's the taste!' and rapidly emptied her dish.
"My dinner"
Olivia, holding a fork and staring despairingly at the pot, was on the verge of tears, muttering I cant No'
Perhaps because Hanna and Malik were knights, they possessed outstanding talent for eating. Their enjoyment was so evident, I felt glad watching them, as if they would have been successful food bloggers in a past life.
Of course, Olivias expression soured.
"At least eat less, you pigs!"
"...."
"...."
"Don't ignore me!"
As the pot was nearly empty,
I cautiously decided to interrupt their meal.
The question I hadn't asked earlier.
Why did you come here?'
I hadn't had the chance to ask earlier, but now that there was a moment, I decided to inquire.
"So, what brings you to our estate?"
It didn't seem like they had come for a visit, nor did it seem they came just for a meal.
I pointedly asked Malik, as I had a hunch.
"With all these gifts wrapped up, it seems like you've come for another reason. Isn't that right, Malik?"
Malik, who had been jabbing at his rice cake with a fork, flinched at the shoulder. He then gave a slight shake of his head and wiped his mouth before responding.
"It's not like the last time with the mantis I mean, Pascal-related matters. I came to express my gratitude."
As I thought. It seemed he was here because of the potion I had sent.
I had sent a sword to Hanna and a potion to Malik via parcel. It must be a visit to say thanks. I pretended not to know.
I believe humility requires one to feign ignorance. That way, I might get a meal coupon for the Forest Friend and some pocket money as a bonus.
I looked at Malik with an expression that said I knew nothing.
"Gratitude?"
Malik, as if having read my mind, let out a wry laugh.
"Yes, gratitude sometimes it's definitely faster to show rather than tell."
Malik put down his fork and clenched his fist.
A faint aura of pale brown shone around him.
Tiny and insignificant, yet unmistakably aura.
Malik gave a charming smile, sending a provocative glance my way. I'm not fond of a man's smile enough to want to punch him in the face.
Out of respect for a water benefactor, I should refrain from any aggression.
The weight of being the head of the household forced me to unclench my fist.
Malik spoke to me, his expression suggesting a decade-long congestion had cleared.
"Thanks to the potion you gifted, I was able to transcend my limits."
I hid my ulterior motives behind my response to Maliks words and shook my head.
"Ah what help could I have possibly given? It was all Malik's hard work, wasn't it?"
Malik nodded without a second's hesitation.
"That's definitely true."
On one hand, Malik's assessment was accurate.
If one could awaken the aura simply by possessing a potion, then who in the world would fail to awaken? If nobility had enough money, they would all be using aura and flying around. Considering that the previous youngest aura user before Hanna was just an ordinary commoner, it would have been nearly impossible to achieve aura through doping.
Aware of this fact, Malik discarded any semblance of modesty in his acknowledgment.
But still, it was annoying nonetheless.
Malik wore a look of profound gratitude.
"After that day, I had an epiphany."
"Is your epiphany about my excellent swordsmanship?" I asked.
"Do you not know modesty?"
"Isn't it the truth?"
Malik clicked his tongue with an annoyed expression and continued.
"Anyway, that battle made me realize my shortcomings. I was too sold on the idea of being one of the chosen' and failed to take care of those around me."
Malik reached out to hold Hanna's hand.
Seemed like a sudden surge of familial affection.
Hanna frowned and slapped Malik's hand away, then said something to him that she often used on her brother.
"What are you talking about, that's disgusting."
They truly seemed like siblings.
Malik told several stories.
Apologizing to Hanna.
Getting beaten to a pulp at the Royal Academy.
Proudly stating that he begged for Hannas forgiveness despite being hit with scabbards, auras, even getting beaten like a dog in front of people.
He came across as quite insane.
Olivia felt the same way.
"A lunatic."
She left the same review as I did.
Anyway, Malik said he had an epiphany in that process.
That he awakened his aura thanks to it. Hanna thanked us for the gift of the treasured sword and came to our estate for that reason.
Summarizing his story, Malik pointed at the gifts piled up next to the table.
Dolls. Flowers. Accessories. And
"Wow..?"
Even the dining coupons for Olivia's favorite, the Forest Friend.
Olivia's eyes widened at the sight of the dining coupons in Malik's hand.
"Ricardo dining coupons. As many as ten!"
Olivia was beaming with the brightest smile I had seen today.
I ducked my head and whispered in Olivias ear.
"That's the restaurant owner."
"The owner?"
"Yes the Forest Friend."
Olivia looked at me as if to ask why I was only telling her now.
She gave Malik a look of disbelief, then turned to me with a questioning gaze as if asking if this made any sense. I responded to her by nodding.
Olivia whispered in my ear.
"The family that thinks of nothing but swords?"
"Yes."
"A dumb brute who only understands swords?"
I nodded again.
"Is that the person you mentioned? The one who gave a lot of money?"
"Yes."
"Did I make a mistake?"
Olivia was silent.
Then she awkwardly extended her hand towards Malik.
"Then please take care of me."
Malik answered coldly.
"Its too late."
Olivia reacted as if she'd lost the world.
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As the night grew late, the Histania siblings decided to stay overnight at the estate.
It was an overnight stay arranged through Olivia's efforts to curry favor and my suggestion.
Hanna went to Olivia's room with her, while Malik and I sat in the dining room drinking tea.
"Sigh"
As Malik cooled his hot tea, he thanked me for the dinner.
"Thank you for the meal. It was my first time trying that food, but it was really delicious."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it."
After a short silence, Malik spoke with a serious expression.
"So, I was thinking of adding that Spicy Rice Cakes dish to our restaurant's menu"
I swallowed hard.
"What?"
Malik continued, saying that he didn't only want the recipe, he proposed that we go into business together, and was confident that the dish would be successful.
"I won't leave you feeling shortchanged; let's do it at a 70-30 split. Let's conquer the restaurant industry of the entire continent together," he said, and to Malik who seemed to have set an unusual goal, I answered,
"Malik."
"Why, don't you like it? Then how about 60-40 I can't go any higher than that."
Malik seemed to have a natural talent for this line of work, perhaps even more so than with the sword. Of course, he was also good with a sword but that.
His talent in the restaurant business was remarkable.
"Weren't your dreams about becoming a leader of the knight order?"
Malik clamped his mouth shut.
After the business talk, Malik took out a single piece of paper from his pocket.
"If you give the recipe it's a 70-30 deal. I'll manage the operations, and you handle the development. No complaints, right?"
"Yes. You handle the bothersome stuff, Malik."
"Annoying. Well, let's conclude this conversation here and discuss this paper. I'm sure it's the thing you're most curious about."
Malik unfolded the paper on the table.
A blueprint with two large wheels attached to each side of a chair was sprawled out on the table.
"I read the letter you sent. The writing was serious, though I had to call an expert in ancient languages to resolve that it was terrible. The writing. Anyways, when I looked at the drawing, it was clear that it is indeed an incredible invention."
With a question mark over his head, Malik asked,
"What did you say the name of this chair was?"
I told Malik,
"It's called a wheelchair."
Just after the young lady collapsed.
I began to create medical equipment that would serve as the lady's legs.
Walkers to aid in rehabilitation, or an assistive device that could help the lady, like the blueprint spread out on the dining table.
The lady hated them, embarrassment coloring her cheeks, but I kept making them, again and again.
This world was not kind to those with physical disabilities.
There were simple aides like crutches, but devices like walkers or wheelchairs had not yet come into existence.
There had been a similar invention to the wheelchair, but due to the lack of proper brakes, it led to numerous accidents, casting a negative social perception.
There had even been a case involving high-ranking nobility, branding it a useless artifact among the aristocrats.
Therefore, the lady disliked wheelchairs as well.
-It's ugly.
-I haven't even unwrapped it yet.
-It just looks ugly no matter what.
The BenX Model 1', a surprise unveiling hidden beneath a thick blanket for the lady, featured an old-fashioned design made of wood and brakes that could be manually controlled. Despite being an invention that could have turned the era on its head, the lady expressed her disinterest even before unwrapping it.
-You'll feel differently if you sit in it.
-I don't like it. It's ugly.
-Doesn't it make you want to sit in it?
-Ricardo's back is faster and more comfortable.
-Oh.
The Model 1, discarded by the lady's sweet-talking persuasion.
It wasn't due to any impure intentions of liking her chest pressed against his back. If she liked my back that much, who was I to argue?
It was good for me.
And the lady enjoyed it too.
The first model had its flaws, dangerous braking by hand, a bumpy ride, a clunky design.
I had to admit, it was unsuitable as the lady's first vehicle.
One should enjoy the ride, especially if they were of noble birth.
After all, opulence was part of being a noble.
To create such opulence for the lady, I discarded the first model in the mansion's storage and started working on Model 2.
Thus, the creation of BenX Model 2'.
Rectifying the disadvantages of the previous model, Model 2 featured upgraded design and brake safety, a polished black paint, and a metal frame which together produced a masterpiece filled with dwarf excellence.
A masterpiece was born from the sweat and hammering of a dwarf.
I couldn't forget the expression of the dwarf, wiping sweat from his brow and donning a refreshing smile.
-With this you could even take down an orc.
-It's marvelous!
The Model 2, three times larger than the original blueprint.
It was only after it was made did I realize it had turned into a war machine.
I had been too excited while adding this and that.
-Shouldn't you be catching orcs?
-Orcs? If it just rolls-
-Ah! In this dangerous world where you might encounter an orc on the road, such careless thoughts won't do!
-Certainly
Model 2, crafted more ominously than requested due to my artistic fervor, remained untested and ended up in the mansion's storage.
It would have been perfect if the lady had ridden it
But I held back, fearing I'd be chased away if I showed it to her.
Model 3, delayed by many trials and financial difficulties, was on the verge of becoming a part of history's backdrop, but it began to see the light of day with Malik's assistance.
Malik showed interest while looking at the blueprint, pointing at the handle of the wheelchair.
He had the excited expression of a child.
"Brake pads made of rubber I hadn't thought of that."
Of course. This world had the convenience of magic rather than the science of engineering.
With magic stones as an energy source and magic as a more efficient method readily available, there was no need to spend money on inefficient alternatives.
Commenting to himself upon seeing modern knowledge, Malik mused.
"With this, we can even apply it to carriages. Brake pads made from orc leather and a handle with wire for deceleration This could be profitable. It reduces the cost of magic stones and increases convenience"
His expression brightened at the thought of expanding the business.
Malik asked me.
"Are you a genius?"
"Yes, a genius and handsome too"
"Skip that part."
"Jealous? You can always be reborn."
Malik looked at me with an annoyed expression.
The fifth rendition of the blueprint.
Malik furrowed his brow.
Not my handwriting, but that of a translator turned the blueprint intently studied, Malik marveled and repeatedly brainstormed ideas for new businesses.
On the face of it, one might wonder why he was swinging a sword at all, why such a clear-cut businessman was acting in such an incomprehensible manner.
Time passed quickly.
Malik pointed out flaws in the blueprint with his pen, and I clapped in awe at his insights and acumen.
What started as a simple wheelchair turned into something more as the opinions of a fashion-conscious noble and a possessed individual combined, stepping beyond the original blueprint.
From BenX' to PorscheX'.
In less than an hour, dense text spread across the margins of the blueprint. It all started with the intention of creating something people could use.
But when two knightly men get together, the original purpose began to fade.
Malik, pen in hand, suggested.
"How about adding a magic stone as a power source here?"
"A power source?"
"Yes. A villainess I mean, if Lady Olivia were to use it as a chair, wouldn't it be too mundane? Wouldn't the lady hate something so dull?"
With an earnest expression, Malik rambled on a novel idea. Creating a wheelchair powered by a magic stone.
I earnestly asked Malik.
"Is that possible?"
"There's nothing impossible with money in this world."
It wasn't a saying befitting a royal knight.
But I admired Malik for stating such a clear principle of the world.
Cautiously, I added flesh to Malik's considerations.
"Then how about adding protective magic? It'd be serious trouble if it toppled over."
"Hmm Certainly. We could then increase the output a little more, couldn't we? If there is protective magic, then safety is assured. By lightening with mithril instead of iron, it could even be faster than a carriage."
"Certainly then maybe add a fireball feature on the handle as well, one that the lady likes"
"That, too, might"
"Oh! Splendid."
The PorscheX Model 1' was born from the fusion of masculine dreams and knightly aggression.
Malik ran his nose and smiled in satisfaction, while I couldn't help but beam at the thought of the lady enjoying it.
Feeling good about making a definitive product, Malik showed me an estimate with rows of zeros in the margins of the blueprint.
"One. Ten. Hundred. Thousand. Ten thousand A hundred thousand A million?"
With a soft chuckle, Malik said.
"It looks like we could make it for 3 million gold."
A foreboding sense of dread washed over me; we would have to stick to eating porridge for a while. Surely the lady would be delighted if she received it, but it seemed unmanageable.
I put on an awkward smile and spoke to Malik.
"Can't we reduce the estimate a bit? Just for the amount including the protection magic"
"Why's that?"
"The amount is a bit of a burden Haha."
An awkward chuckle slipped out.
3 million gold.
I didn't want to invest my entire life into a single wheelchair. I wanted to give the lady her first high-class vehicle, but an airplane would be too much.
As the birth of a masterpiece was on the verge of being aborted due to cost, Malik frowned.
"Money?"
"Yes"
3 million gold as if it was pocketchange.
The Histania family, with its deep history and honor, might be able to cover the amount, but to me, a young head of household, it was a crushing sum.
At the same time, another thought crossed my mind.
If it were only 500,000 gold' I contemplated.
I spoke to Malik, who was turning the pen in his hands with an awkward smile.
"I'll deposit the money into the account"
Maliks face became stern. He looked as if he were about to scold me for paying the bill after dining with a close brother.
"Why are you putting down the deposit?"
"Excuse me?"
"Didn't I say I came to thank you?"
"You did, just earlier. You even gave me 10 meal vouchers."
Malik chuckled incredulously.
"That was a greeting."
Malik slipped the blueprint into his inner pocket as he spoke.
"This is my way of saying thank you."
I asked Malik in all seriousness.
"Can I call you brother?"
Malik grimaced before chuckling.
"That's disgusting."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the dark room.
Olivia was sitting on the bed talking with Hanna, discussing how things had been and the current state of the Royal Academy.
Hanna satisfied Olivias curiosity and in turn, Olivia listened to Hanna's stories.
In the room only illuminated by a small lamp.
Hanna spoke with a laugh, relaying a story about Michail.
"So there I was dodging Michail's sword, and pop' I put my sword right under his chin!"
Olivia's expression soured.
In the past, she felt good just from hearing Michail's name, but now it just made her uncomfortable.
The heart-pounding, blushing excitement was less than before.
Maybe it was because she hadn't seen him for too long.
After reflecting on her past, Olivia found her feelings for Michail growing fainter. She was certain she liked him, still feeling like she did, but her heart was in a constant state of unease.
His vivid memory of rescuing her from the pond was clear, yet
Her heart seemed to mutter some uncertainty.
Hanna continued to unfold her tales, with an excited face proudly claiming she had bested Michail.
"And then, there was Michail sitting on the ground glaring at me, do you know how I felt? My lady? Are you listening?"
Olivia asked Hanna.
"Do you not like Michail?"
It was odd. The Hanna of Histania she knew had been a girl infatuated with Michail, but the Hanna she saw, gleeful from her victory over the man Olivia liked, did not appear to be a girl in love.
Rather, Olivia, who still harbored feelings for Michail, found Hanna's expression to be glowing as if she had extracted a sore tooth, and therefore Hanna seemed strange to her.
So Olivia asked her.
"You like Michail, don't you?"
Hanna looked at Olivia, seemingly taken aback by the unexpected question.
Clearing her throat with a cough, she opened her mouth.
"I used to"
Hanna awkwardly smiled, doodling on the blanket with her finger, as Olivia quietly waited for her answer, wondering why she was acting so shy.
It was incomprehensible.
Hanna then said to Olivia.
"I've come to like someone else."
"It's not Michail?"
Hanna shook her head.
"No"
Glancing downstairs, Hanna blushed.
"There's someone else I really like. A very cool person."
Just as Olivia was about to ask who that person was, Hanna, sensing the difficulty in answering such a question, redirected the inquiry.
"What about you, my lady?"
Dropping her shy façade, Hanna spoke to Olivia earnestly.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone